An Alien Plague
by vandevere
Summary: My Struggle II AU X-over with Chuck, and L&O. Scully and Jack save the world.


Previous stories in An Alien 'Verse:  
Chuck Vs the Alien Colonists  
A Mercenary's Tale  
A Double Christening  
Life in Purgatory  
The Great Hunt  
The Tree  
A Moment  
A Kind of Truth

 _Our Lady of Sorrows 2016_

People falling ill all around her…people falling ill all over the world…

People dying all over the world.

And, in all of that, only two people seemed to be immune to this plague.

Dana Scully, herself, and John…Kincaid; a janitor at Our Lady of Sorrows.

Only, Scully knew the truth about John. His real name wasn't Kincaid. It was _McCoy_ , and he used to be an attorney, the Executive ADA for the District of Manhattan.

He was also an Alien Abductee.

 _Like me…_

Now, here he was, in Dana Scully's lab. He had volunteered to give blood too, like Scully had, to try to save humanity.

The Alien Plague's timing had been impeccable. Dr. Emil Skoda, _and_ the current DA for the District of Manhattan-Claire Kincaid-had managed to find the time to come down and visit their old friend.

Now, along with Mike Logan, they were ill, all three of them, all three burning up with fever.

The prognosis was grim, and John… _Jack_ …was frantic.

The three people he loved most in the world were dying.

So, here he was, sitting on an examination table, watching as Scully drew his blood.

"Never thought my blood could help save the world," he muttered softly.

"You and I, Jack," Scully favored him with a grin. "Saviors of the world…"

There was a knock on the door, and two people waked in, both of whom Scully knew, from an incident several years ago.

General Diane Beckman, and Chuck Bartowski. Both looked ill, although not yet prostrated by the disease.

 _No alien genes in either of them…_

Jack lurched to his feet, panic in every line of his body.

"It's okay, Jack," Scully soothed him. "They're friends of mine."

"You find a cure for this?" Beckman asked.

"Yes," Scully pointed to herself and Jack. "Our blood-the alien genes within-will act as a vaccine, and a cure. All we need is a rapid delivery system."

"Leave that to us," Beckman turned to Bartowski. "Chuck?"

Scully saw it, the moment when Bartwoski's pupils dilated. He looked to be on the verge of a seizure. Then, he snapped back to normal.

And, out of nowhere, he began detailing multiple plans, for releasing the…vaccine…into the water, and spraying it into the air overhead.

 _All possible points of vector…_

Beckman nodded. But Scully held up a hand. For certain people, there was no time.

She had been in contact with Miller.

And Mulder.

She grabbed several packs of vaccine, turned to run.

"Keep an eye on Jack," she ordered Beckman. "If anything happens to me, he might be your only hope."

Then she was off, to save Miller…

And Mulder.

…..

Jack McCoy stood there, in the small lab. He felt Nurse Sandeep's hand on his arm.

"You've done everything you can, John," she said.

McCoy looked down at his feet, not wanting to see the sympathy he knew was in the visitors' eyes.

He didn't trust Beckman or Bartowski.

 _Scully does. She told them to protect me if anything happened to her._

He shivered. His friends were dying out in Isolation One, and he had done all he could to save them.

"Come on, John," Sandeep was ill too, but had already received a shot of the vaccine. It was pretty clear the vaccine was working.

"I want to sit by my friends," he said.

"Of course you do." Sandeep guided McCoy to where his three friends lay. Logan was the worst off. On oxygen, cannulas in his nose, IVs pushing fluids into his system.

 _Anthrax._

 _A special kind of anthrax, one that was resistant to treatment. Only cells containing alien genes were immune._

 _I have alien genes, and so does Dr. Scully…_

The irony was rich.

Those alien genes, harvested from Scully's blood, and from his, were going to save everyone from an Alien Plague.

Dr. Emil Skoda was already awake, and aware.

"You look like hell, Jack," he said, smiling slightly to take the bite out of his words.

McCoy smiled back.

"Look in a mirror lately?"

McCoy's eyes kept sliding to the third occupant.

Claire Kincaid was asleep, curled up on her side. It almost broke him- _again_ -when he realized how close she had come to dying of this plague.

He took a seat by her bed, sat there, just keeping watch over her; aware of Chuck Bartowski keeping watch over him.

General Beckman was gone.

 _Off doing what Generals do in times of crisis, I guess…_

…..

 _On the bridge, a multi-lane highway, UFO blazing with light directly overhead_

Dana Scully looked directly up at the monstrosity hovering over everything, and she just knew.

 _We're all dead. There's nothing we can do to stop this…_

But, apparently, there was…

Some distance away, she saw a diminutive figure, female, she thought, carrying one of those over-the-shoulder weapons-Patriot, Cruise, or Scud-and there was this flare of light.

 _You're fucking kidding me…_

But, if ever there was a time to fire on a UFO, it was _this_ time, when their shields were down, as civilians were being…harvested, slowing floating upward, like reverse snowflakes, floating up to this brilliantly lit, virtually blazing, gaping hole in the center of the UFO.

And that was _exactly_ where the missile, and three other companion missiles, fired from three different sites-three different shooters-went.

Four direct hits…

 _Right in the kisser_ , Scully thought distractedly.

The UFO was veering off, interior explosions visible…audible…as the thing crashed near an underpass; and the world rocked and shook under Scully's feet.

"Doctor Scully!" General Beckman was running up. "Let's get your friends and get out of here!"

Now, several helicopters were hovering overhead, lines trailing down, with stretchers attached.

An hour later, everyone was back at _Our Lady of Sorrows_ , and Scully was feeling anything but sorrowful.

The news was now reporting a downtick of fatalities, and new cases of illness, and all the patients here at the hospital were recovering.

She bent over Fox Mulder, checking the IV…

He was asleep.

Her body sagged in relief. Mulder was going to be fine.

She turned her head, saw Jack McCoy. He was asleep too, lanky body folded haphazardly into a chair by Claire Kincaid's bed.

 _It's a wonder he hasn't fallen off…_

Someone had managed to slide a pillow behind McCoy's head and back, and there was a blanket draped unceremoniously over the sleeping form.

Claire Kincaid was awake, looking at McCoy as he slept.

There was fear in her eyes.

"Claire?" Scully moved and spoke softly. "What's wrong?"

"Look at him…" Kincaid's voice trembled. Scully looked at McCoy, at the hawk features, at the disheveled mop of black hair.

"What's wrong?" she asked again.

"How old is he?"

Scully frowned at Kincaid's question. She knew McCoy's DOB.

"He was born November fifteenth, Nineteen-forty."

"Yeah…" Claire Kincaid nodded. "He's almost seventy-six. Does he _look_ almost seventy-six?"

Scully swung her gaze back to McCoy. Eyes closed in sleep, jet black hair straggling into his eyes. He looked no older than the day she first met him...

 _1994_

 _"Are you_ _ **serious**_ _?" McCoy glares at Agent Scully. "Agent Mulder wants me to have a chat with the man who wanted to kill me?"_

 _"Albert Koster…" Scully feels herself blush. "He made seeing you part of his price for cooperation."_

 _"That's your problem, not mine," McCoy busies himself with folders and files. "Besides, I've heard of his reputation, and have no desire to get caught up in…Alien Mysteries."_

 ** _Spooky Mulder…_**

 _Scully sighs, feeling resigned_

 _"It doesn't help that he can be a bit of an ass about it," she mutters softly._

 _There's the sound of a soft chuckle at McCoy's office door._ _ **His**_ _boss, Adam Schiff, stands just inside, amusement in his eyes._

 _"Fox Mulder isn't the only one who can be an ass at times. It wouldn't hurt for us to cooperate with the FBI every once in a while."_

 _"Adam…" McCoy begins to object._

 _"Quit being a putz, Jack, and help the young lady do her job," Adam Schiff regards McCoy sternly. "Your Second Chair can handle your caseload while you go out and do your civic duty."_

…..

Claire Kincaid saw the realization enter Dr. Scully's eyes.

"Something's…wrong…with Jack," she continued. "He's not aging. He looks exactly the same as he did when I first laid eyes on him. If he weren't ill, I wouldn't be worried. But he is, and I don't know what to do!"

Scully drew up a seat on the other side, watching McCoy carefully, so as not to awaken him. Then her cobalt blue eyes focused on Kincaid.

"All his protectors…"Kincaid sighed. "We're all getting older. Mike's going to grow old and die. Emil's going to grow old and die. _I_ am going to grow old and die. And Jack… _isn't_."

She grabbed Scully's hand.

"I don't know what to do, Dana. Who's going to look after him when we're gone?"

Scully sighed, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. Then, she said the words that rocked Claire Kincaid's world to its core.

"I'm immortal too," Scully sighed again, lifting her head, blue eyes fixed upon Kincaid's dark eyes. "I'll look after Jack. My promise."

…..

 _2042 AD_

The _Great Diaspora_ had begun.

Dana Scully was aboard one of the great Sleeper Ships that comprised the last great hope of Humanity.

 _We're escaping Earth, leaving our ancestral home to the Alien Colonists; fleeing to find other homes for humanity, other planets so we can grow strong again, and maybe even return later and kick the aliens out…_

Scully sighed. All her friends were dead and gone now, even her beloved Fox Mulder. Out of them all, only Jack McCoy was left.

True to her word, Scully had gotten herself appointed to be Jack McCoy's Legal Guardian upon Claire Kincaid's death.

 _She_ had lived to be almost ninety years of age, and her death had been a terrible blow to Jack.

All of his friends were dead and gone too.

 _Well…_

There _was_ Chuck Bartowski, still around due to a special medicine. Scully was given to understand this was all to do with John Casey; that Casey's genetic material had been harvested from the wall of Magnetite or that was his grave.

 _If someone did that to Fox, I'd use every resource to make sure I was alive to save him._

Thing was, she didn't need to. Her immortality was a gift of whatever had been done to her when _they_ abducted her.

For Jack McCoy, it was the same.

And now they were on the _John Casey_ , heading away from Earth.

Jack McCoy was already in cryosleep, and it looked remarkably like a coma; eyelids taped shut, ventilator tube down his throat, IV needles in his arm.

Scully sighed as she looked at the cryo-cubicle next to McCoy.

 _That's for me…_

She sighed again as she prepared herself.

 _If nothing goes wrong, next time I open my eyes, we'll be at a new world._

And there would be hope for the Human Race…


End file.
